


Command Constants

by Jb (sg1jb)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg1jb/pseuds/Jb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Hammond is no slouch when it comes to reading his people</p>
            </blockquote>





	Command Constants

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for the May 26th, 2014 Gen Fic Day Alphabet Soup,  
> written for the letter 'C' and the episode 'New Ground'.  
> Thanks to Fig Newton for Gen Fic Day and all else she does to keep SG-1 alive.

 

 

Tired and disquieted, George wished for nothing more than the luxury of closing his eyes and running his hands through his hair to massage his aching head. Unfortunately, the constants of command made that impossible at the moment. Despite that more often than not the need was the bane of his existence, he had to maintain an attentive, competent, and impartial demeanour. And anyway, even if command did not preclude such personal freedom of expression, there was still an obvious impediment to indulging in that sort of self-comfort. He really missed having hair.

After having spent countless, anxiety-fraught hours helpless to intervene in whatever was happening to his people – cages, for God's sake; they'd been confined in barred cages – he dearly wanted to hang on to the bloom of pleasure he'd felt when the clattering on the gate's ramp had ended and the head-count had come up complete. While that satisfaction had remained unbent during the quick, informal hallway chat with O'Neill and throughout most of this subsequent debrief, now the intensity of his relief was tempered by the realisation that something was being left unsaid.

In the SGC's books, a safe return was one where all team members, no matter if somewhat dented, showed up on this side of the 'gate and recovered well enough to get back into the saddle for another ride. And a safe return plus formal clearance after all medical and debriefing reviews was normally enough to put most missions to bed – even ones that had gone sideways. Regardless of small cages, taser equivalents, and Teal'c's ordeal, given what he'd heard up until the last five minutes of this meeting George had expected this post-mission progression to follow suit.

Debriefings featured heavily in George's command routine; he had a lot of experience with them and was no slouch in reading between the lines. In the last few minutes of this one, he'd caught a hint of the small, carefully protected gap in the narrative, and that it was so covetously hidden gave him reason to suspect that one team member might not be moving on from this mission quite so readily as the others.

"Carter and Daniel went through, and as we followed, we saw Nyan go down. Teal'c said, 'Hey Dad, look what I found; can I keep it?' Looked like he could use a treat, so I said, 'Yeah, sure, why not,' and so here we all are." Jack O'Neill shrugged, then took in the number of people sitting at the table with him and added, "Well, okay, not  _all_ here,  _here_  ... but all here, as in home, here ..."

Ah yes, and right there was another constant in this command: O'Neill's irreverence, which at times was every bit as much George's nemesis as was his rank's demand for professionalism. If truth were to be told, though, George wouldn't have it any other way.

In the momentary silence which followed the colonel's personal version of stress-reduction, cleverly disguised as closing remarks, George eyed each of the team members in turn, his attention moving from Jack to Major Carter, and then on to the last person in attendance. He lingered on Daniel just that few seconds longer than the others, well aware the young man would catch the speculation in his gaze. The inadvertent response was subtle, but the slight downturn of his head was enough to both confirm George's suspicions and dictate his approach.

Daniel Jackson was holding out on him, and George was going to find out why.

"All right, people. Unless anyone has anything else to add ..." George waited a few beats, and into the one shrug, the other dutiful "No, Sir," and the unfortunate utter lack of response in the third case, he informed them of his decision. "I've already spoken briefly with Teal'c, however his formal debrief is pending Dr. Fraiser's approval. Until such time as that's concluded, as per standard protocols applying to potential compromise, none of you are to discuss any part of this mission with him, nor with our guest."

He got two nods of acknowledgement and one still unfortunate blank wall. There was nothing for it, then: "Colonel, Major, that protocol applies to all of your contact with Dr. Jackson as well. I will have Teal'c informed of the same."

In amidst two objecting voices, he abruptly placed both hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. Two bodies followed him up. "By your own admission during this debriefing, Colonel, Dr. Jackson was twice isolated from his team for interrogation under duress. Until such time as I decide it's unwarranted, we will follow the appropriate post-mission protocols." End of conversation. "You and Major Carter are dismissed. Dr. Jackson, my office."

Walking briskly past the back of Daniel Jackson's chair, George heard him mutter a soft acknowledgement to the tabletop in front of him. "Yeah, I figured."

George heard Jack's sotto voce, parting insistence on independent thinking – "Not twice. Effectively, once. It was once," – aimed at his back as he entered his office. He thought about poking his head out with a reprimand, but Jack was more expressing support for his friend than he was arguing the order. Given the circumstances, George heartily approved of that motive.

The friend in question appeared at the office door just a moment after George had settled in at his desk. "Jack used the wrong word when he said 'effectively'. Maybe technically, although that's questionable as well." Daniel hovered in the entry, hands thrust into his pants' pockets, seeming reluctant to take the chair George waved him toward. George patiently folded his hands on his desk and listened to Daniel engage in his bit of pedantry, no doubt as an avoidance technique. "He said once, but you're right, Sir: effectively, it was twice. Technically-speaking."

Or maybe not in avoidance, George revised, as Daniel stepped forward to stand behind the chair he ought to be sitting in. "He's not being obstreperous; he just doesn't know. Neither of them know," he quietly said. "They only know what we covered in the debriefing – that your dial-in distracted Rigar right after Jack was zatted. I haven't mentioned anything other than that, and I'm not sure I should ... even if I wanted to, which I don't."

George's only response was to once again wave at the chair, and this time Daniel wearily took the seat he'd been ordered into, obviously surrendering to the reality this was to be a longer conversation than he preferred. He leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on his knees. George was reminded of the discouragement that had come through so clearly at the end of the short MALP transmission.

"I didn't give anything up, Sir. I assure you, any concerns I've brought home with me are purely personal ones. I realise you can't just take my word for it, but ... I don't ..."

As Daniel faltered to a halt, George nodded thoughtfully, more to himself than the man in front of him. The scene the MALP's camera had showed him was clear in his mind, and with his suspicion there had been more to that particular situation than had been revealed during the debriefing now confirmed, it was time to get down to specifics. "Tell me what happened," he gently ordered, and leaned back in his chair to provide Daniel with the security of more personal space.

"I followed Jack's lead," Daniel softly began, pushing his glasses aside to rub his eyes. "When they took me outside to the DHD, I denied knowledge of what it was, and of Teal'c. They bullied ... well, okay, hurt me ... more than just a bit, but it was just me out there so it wasn't hard to keep to the script. Hardly rocket science, understanding what I had to do."

"And when they brought you all back together, to where I saw you via the MALP," George prompted, following the sequence of events as had been laid out in the debriefing. "Commander Rigar decided to try something new?"

"Yeah." The glasses were removed completely in favour of a hand dragged down Daniel's face. "Yeah, and suddenly the situation wasn't quite so clear-cut anymore."

George wasn't concerned about the safety of the Program; he didn't doubt for a minute that Dr. Jackson's response to both forms of coercion had been beyond reproach. He made a mental note to be sure to tell him just that.

"When Jack was zatted, the door on his cage was still electrified. He fell against it. I ... Rigar, he ..." Daniel miserably admitted, and George thought, all right, now we're getting somewhere.

It wasn't hard to fill in the remaining gaps, nor to understand how easily such a no-win situation could frighten even the most courageous man and eat away at his confidence in his choices. The thought of being placed in that position, of all the what-ifs, unsettled George – what if the SGC hadn't dialled the 'gate when they had; what if Rigar had chosen differently; what if Daniel himself had chosen differently?

No doubt there were many who would say the role and obligations of an Air Force General, especially one in command of a critical facility, did not include personally talking key personnel through a crisis of confidence. George might even agree with them, in another place and time where the territory was familiar and the risks being taken more predictable.

His place and time were here and now, though. This was the SGC and these exceptional people, faced with exceptional circumstances, were his people. As far as George was concerned, seeing his people safely to the other side of trouble, when and however he could, was one of the most important constants in his life – one he'd never regret having to live by and would never shirk.

"It was a difficult situation," George acknowledged. He leaned in as far as his desk would allow, trying to close the distance with kindness if not with physical proximity. "Go ahead," he told Daniel. "I'm listening."  
  
  
  


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End file.
